The End of the Night
by strangersinthelight
Summary: Ryan/Alexis. I need a hero, I'm holding out for a hero 'til the end of the night.


**Author's Note: **First off, if you happen to be reading my _Teen Wolf_ stories and still care, I have not forgotten about them. Lots of changes in the past year and this is the first bit of writing I've done in a while, but I've started back on those and hope to have an update soon. Now, on to this story. I flove Ryan/Alexis. This is AU, and if some things are different from the show, it's cause I haven't actually finished this season yet. I know, I know. I'll get to it. This story is kind of short and I see it as more of a prologue to a longer story I'd like to write for them at some point. I was listening to Ella Mae Bowen's remake of _Holding Out for a Hero_ while writing this. That's also where the title and the lines in the summary come from. And I know you're probably thinking, 'Wth, that song is so hokey,' but I think her cover of it is really beautiful. On to the story.

* * *

He leaned back against the edge of his desk at the precinct, absently twisting the ring on his left hand. It was late, the muted sounds of the night shift fading into the background as he stared at nothing and tried to decide how much he loved his wife.

A year ago, he would have had no trouble answering that, but now... he wasn't so sure. Months of fighting, absences and cold silences could do that to a marriage. She'd finally broken the tension and said what they'd both known for almost a year. She said she still loved him, she always would, but she couldn't be a cop's wife anymore. It was too much, too draining, too stressful, too everything.

What was he supposed to say to that?

She'd said they could start over. He could find another job. A job that would be over at five everyday, that wouldn't drag him out of bed at two in the morning, that would let them spend more time together than they did apart. They could build a new life. Or she could leave, because this wasn't something she could do anymore.

He continued twisting the ring as he thought about leaving a job that was so much a part of him it would be like losing a limb if he were to go. These people were his family. This job his life. Did he feel the same about Jenny? Shouldn't he? At one time, he thought maybe he had.

"Detective Ryan?"

The soft question brought his head up, red hair and blue eyes pulling him from his thoughts and bringing an involuntary half-smile out of him. "Hey, Alexis," he stood up as she moved toward him. "How's it going?"

"Good," she smiled at him. "College is kicking my butt," she shrugged, "but other than that, everything's good."

"Really?" he raised an eyebrow and grinned. "Because to hear your dad talk, college is child's play for you."

She blushed, crossing her arms as she rolled her eyes. "You can't listen to him, Detective. He'll have me being a member of Mensa before you can say 'hyperbole.'"

He laughed and the sound was almost a shock to him. It had been a while since he'd laughed, since he'd had a reason to. She smiled back at him before glancing around the precinct, "I'm actually here to see him. We're supposed to go to dinner. Is he here anywhere?"

"Ah, no," he shook his head. "He and Beckett got called away. I'm not sure when they'll be back."

"He forgot to call me," she shook her head in mock disappointment. "Can you believe that? My dad getting caught up in the moment and just forgetting about me like that?"

He smiled at the way her eyes twinkled, at the dimple that flirted in her cheek as she tried not to laugh. Her gaze flicked to the side and caught on something behind him, smile fading from her face. He wanted to move, to block her view when he realized what she was seeing, but it was too late. She'd already started moving past him to the murder board.

He caught her upper arm, fingers curling around the fragile column as she turned her head to look up at him. "Alexis – ," he started, because this wasn't something she should have to see, to deal with, to remember.

"It's fine," she interrupted him. "Really. I interned with Lanie, remember?"

He wanted to tell her that it wasn't the same. Not at all. These people had faces and stories and families. They weren't corpses laid out on a slab to be dissected. His thumb slid back and forth over her skin absently as he stood silently in indecision. He wanted like hell to pull her away, but she just gazed steadily up at him until he finally forced his fingers to uncurl and let her go.

She walked to the board, looking it over slowly as he moved to stand beside her. He listened to her breathing in the silence as she took in the pictures, the theories and motives and alibis written in black detailing the final hours of a life.

"She had kids?" her soft question broke the silence as she turned to look at him and this, this was what he had wanted to avoid. The sadness in her eyes, the sympathy etched in every feature of her face. Her eyes should never be sad.

"I mean," she shook her head, "I know that victims have families. I _know_ that," she swallowed, taking in a shaky breath. "I guess I just didn't realize how different knowing and actually seeing it would be."

"Yeah," he sighed, closing his eyes because it wasn't something he liked to think about either. No matter how much he saw it. He'd always believed that the day you got used to it should be the day you quit.

He felt her shoulder bump his arm and he blinked, turning his head to find her staring at him with understanding in her eyes. Understanding and worry. She was worried about him. He rubbed absently at the ache forming in his chest. He couldn't remember the last time anyone had looked at him like that.

"You'll catch them," she said, voice sure and gaze unwavering as he swallowed and looked away.

"You think so?" he asked, staring at the murder board before dropping his gaze. "The damage is done now," he shrugged. "We get there after the fact more often than not. It never feels like –," he broke off. This wasn't something he normally talked about. With anyone. He glanced at her as she waited in silence before taking a breath and forcing out, "enough." He shook his head. "It never feels like enough."

"But it is," she argued, moving to stand in front of him as he lifted his gaze to hers. "You save people," she said, and he almost smiled at the certainty in her voice, at the way she was almost scolding him for not thinking he'd done all that he could.

"I didn't save her," he looked at the board, nodding toward the victim's picture.

His gaze was jerked down to a pair of angry blue eyes and he nearly swallowed his tongue when he realized her hands were cupping his face, tilting it down and forcing him to look at her.

"Don't you dare demean what you do," she said, fingers trembling against his face as his pulse sped up. "You do something that maybe only one in a thousand people would do. You watch over people. You risk your life for strangers. Don't ever think what you do isn't enough. It's everything," she finished, voice full of sincerity and more conviction than he felt like he'd had in years.

His jaw clenched under her fingers and she blinked, a fiery blush spreading up her throat and onto her cheeks as she jerked her hands down and clasped them behind her back. "I– I'm so sorry," she choked out as she stared at the floor, the wall, anywhere but his face.

"It's fine," he ground out, hoping his voice didn't sound as rough to her ears as it did to his. He swallowed, forcing some normalcy into his tone as an only slightly rough sounding, "Alexis," finally brought her gaze up to his. "It's alright," he repeated, watching as she nodded. The blush slowly faded from her face, though the tips of her ears stayed red and he almost smiled.

"A changeling," he murmured.

"What?" she asked, brow wrinkling in confusion.

"My grandmother," he said after a pause, "she'd call you a changeling. A fairy child," he explained when her expression remained confused.

"Aren't fairies bad, though? In Celtic lore, anyway," she clarified and he wasn't even surprised that she knew that.

"Some are," he shrugged. "Some not. Mischief-makers for the most part," he raised an eyebrow at her and she dropped her gaze.

"I guess sometimes I can be a little... pushy," she conceded. "I just don't want you to think that what you do isn't important," she crossed her arms and looked up at him, shrugging slightly before her lips tilted up in a half-smile and said, "You're a hero."

His breath caught in his throat, hands clenching as he swallowed and fought to force out a semi-normal, "Thank you, Alexis."

She smiled at him before glancing around again and beginning to move by him. "I think I'm gonna go now," she said, reaching up and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear before letting out a soft laugh. "I think I've subjected you to enough of my speeches for one day."

"It was a nice speech," he said, catching her eye as she smiled at him before turning. "Wait," she turned back to him, brows lifted questioningly. "I'll walk you out."

"You don't have to," she shook her head. "I'll be fine. I'm just going to catch a cab and go to Dad's place for the night."

"Now what kind of hero would let a lady walk out by herself into the night?" he teased and she rolled her eyes, though he could see pink beginning to darken her ears again. He stifled the urge to laugh as he walked her toward the elevator. "Gotta keep the armor polished," he muttered, and she laughed as they waited on the doors to open.

He closed his eyes, letting the sound wash over him as the knot in his chest loosened and he took the first deep breath it felt like he'd had in months. He lifted his gaze as the doors opened and Castle stepped out, stopping abruptly as he caught sight of them, eyes widening as they traveled from Ryan to Alexis.

Ryan fought the urge to fidget, what the hell did he have to feel guilty about, as Castle let out an, "Oooohhhhhh," and gave an exaggerated wince. "I was totally gonna call you," he rushed out as Alexis crossed her arms and nodded skeptically at him. "But then we got this call and it was urgent and my phone died and I lost signal and there were these dogs and a goat...," he trailed off before lifting his eyebrows with a weak, "My bad?"

She shook her head and laughed. "It's fine, Dad. Detective Ryan kept me company," she smiled his way and he jerked his head in acknowledgment, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Sweet," Castle grinned in relief, shooting Ryan a grateful look as he walked by him and grabbed a file off Beckett's desk before turning back to Alexis and motioning to the elevator. "We've still got time, and Beckett's waiting downstairs. You ready to go?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "Thanks for waiting with me, Detective," she turned to him and smiled, dimple returning as she stepped toward the elevator with a laughing, "Sorry about the speech."

"Anytime," he shrugged, smiling back at her as the doors slid shut.

The smile slipped from his face as soon as they were out of sight, head dropping as he sighed before moving back to stand once more in front of the murder board. Faces and lives and dreams cut short staring back at him as _you're a hero_ echoed in his head.

Pulling his hands from his pockets, he stared down at his wedding ring for what seemed like an endless moment before giving it a final twist and slipping it off of his finger.


End file.
